Divorce After 27 Years of Marriage

As I approached the end of the trail, I knew I would have to confront the future. When I first left my house, husband, and my last child still there (fully grown) and flew to Atlanta for the beginning of the Appalachian Trail, I had given little thought to what I would do when the hiking was over. By the time I finished, I had had six months on my own, and pretty much no responsibility for family relationships and trying to make all things work. The main responsibilities on the trail were where to find food, water, new shoes, and an occasional Laundromat. I had learned to have confidence in myself, to trust and value people and friendships above everything else. I also had learned the importance of a more simple life, one not based on material things. My priorities were different.

I realized that the experiences of this journey had changed me irrevocably. I knew I could not go back to the life I led before. I couldn’t settle for less than I had on the trail. I would have to find a way to recreate that simplicity and serenity in my permanent life. I would measure everything against that journey, and figure out how to continue on the new path I had chosen.

I took one thing at a time. My first responsibilities were to return to work, and find somewhere to live. Simultaneously, I had to speak with my husband to see what arrangements could be made for living apart and splitting the assets we had accumulated during the 27 years of our marriage. The job and the apartment were pretty easy. Seeking new arrangements with my husband were not. First of all, he wouldn’t speak with me. He simply turned his back and walked off in anger. I realized I would need a lawyer, and once that step was taken, divorce proceedings had to follow. The feelings I had for him and the marriage were long since dead, only ashes were left. Mourning was over. My three children were grown and had moved on with their lives, and I moved on also.

Since I had been given a leave of absence from my job, I had something to go back to. This meant I had income enough to support myself, and friends that accepted me back into their fold. I had relinquished any desire to be in charge and was content to let another assume responsibility and I would do what I was told. I enjoyed furnishing my apartment and starting a social life. That was the first time ever that I had lived alone. It was a first for doing a lot of things, like pumping gas. Now, not only would I have to pump my own gas, I would have to make my own decisions and there would be no one to come to my rescue if I made the wrong ones. My life was entirely my responsibility.

I have no doubt that my friends were the most important part of my going forward. I also checked for activities in my local paper in which to become involved, continued hiking, and also took instruction in kayaking. There are things to do out there; the key is figuring out what you want to do and than going after that. It wasn’t always easy, and sometimes I didn’t feel like being independent. I thought it would be very nice sometimes to have someone haul my vehicle out of the sand, or check the oil, but I didn’t. Life isn’t easy. And, I have since discovered, there are worse things than being lonely.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nancy Gowler

Nancy is 73 and happily lives alone in a small North Carolina mountain town. Life wasn’t always this way. In 1999 she broke free from a toxic marriage by deciding to hike the Appalachian Trail. The hike...read more